Escape From The Sanctuary
by niko56
Summary: Sequel to Identity Crisis. Harley Quinn wakes up in an old Hotel next to two dead bodies and is framed for their killing. It doesn't take long for Gotham City SWAT to storm the building in search for her. She leaves her innocence in the hands of her new friend Batgirl. The two go to great lengths to get Harley out of the hotel in one piece while trying to prove her innocence! R&R!


**Disclaimer: Batman: the Animated Series is not owned by niko56. **

**Also...The following story is entirely and 100% fictitious, any similarities to any characters living or not are not real and entirely coincidental...**

**A/N: This here is a sequel to my previous story: _Identity Crisis _where Harley Quinn learns that Batgirl is in fact Barbara Gordon. The two spark somewhat of a mutual acceptance of the lives they've chose and therefore find camaraderie in that. In this sequel the two will grow their relationship with one another as Batgirl must get Harley out of a predicament as she was framed for a crime she didn't commit. The two must escape a dilapidated hotel being searched through by Gotham S.W.A.T while trying to discover who the true culprit is. R&R greatly appreciated!  
**

**Rated T: violence, murder, mild language, sexual innuendo, use of alcohol and tobacco, references to illegal drugs.**

**Please enjoy...**

_**Escape From The Sanctuary **_

* * *

"_When embarking on a journey of revenge, you must first dig two graves..." -Confucius_

_. . ._

**Chapter 1: Midnight Mystery**

**. . .**

Gotham City. A City that is known for its Gothic Art deco architecture, sprawling economic footprint, and of course its diverse criminals. It's the perfect landscape for a raunchy Tarantino flick or a saucy Oliver Stone or Cohen Brothers murder mystery.

Speaking of Murder...

It was a dark and stormy night, the clouds were scattered and parts of the moon could be seen, yet the rain continued to pour, the lighting lit up the sky, and the thunder cracked, causing multitudes of dogs to bark and small children to cry out in fright.

Pardon the cliche but it was perfect murder weather. Perfect fear causing weather, though this story has no hint of the Scarecrow, in fact the true villain is one that no one would ever suspect. Though for one fan favorite she would get a rude awakening very soon.

In Gotham's older part of town stood an old twenty story monstrosity; The condemned "Hotel Sanctuary." The structure saw plenty of action in the roaring twenties when in its heyday, but as the years progressed, the structure started to give way as people stopped visiting. The place was even deemed haunted. It ultimately closed it's doors for good in 1989, and was meant to be destroyed to make way for a strip mall seven years later.

Yet due to the bureaucratic nightmare that comes with trying to finalize plans for a demolition project of such magnitude, The Sanctuary Hotel remained in tact to this very day, with the proposed strip mall moved elsewhere.

As a result the building was in a critical state of disrepair. As a structure, it fit the Art deco facade of Gotham. It had a large neon sign that read "The Sanctuary" with a vacancy sign in neon lettering beneath it. The rest of the building resembled the older stone structures throughout Gotham City, which looked similar New York's Woolworth building, Empire State Building, Flatiron Building, or Chrysler Building.

The top three floors contained penthouses, and the lower seventeen floors had basic hotel rooms. The rooms were on the sides, and each floor was open directly below to the lobby, resembling that of many old hotels of the day.

Our story begins on the top penthouse floor. There were four penthouses per floor, the top being no exception. This penthouse contained a kitchen with a breakfast nook, living room, and three bedrooms, each containing a bathroom.

In the kitchen laid Harley Quinn. She wore her Harlequin outfit, minus the gloves, makeup and jester cap. Her hair was done in her trademark pigtails. She laid facing up, smeared in blood throughout her face and body. In her hands she clutched an equally bloody butchers knife.

Directly in front of Harley Quinn laid a corpse, sprawled on his side, facing the dinner table, where sitting in a chair facing Quinn sat another corpse, with her head laying on the table, blood dripping from the table cloth and making dripping noises on the floor. Twas the only noise other than the weird creaking noises the old building made and occasional clap of thunder from the raging and unrelenting storm outside.

The male corpse wore a three piece suit, made of Italian silk, and a red tie as red as his blood, most of which was now on the floor. He also wore a beige trench coat, also stained in his blood. He was African-American, shaved head, two piece mustache, clearly a man of profession.

As for the obvious cause of his death, he was stabbed numerous times in the chest, with a slit all down his throat, known throughout the underground as a 'Sicilian necktie'. The man was junior state senator Percival Dorian (R-NY). A man who has made many strides for limited government intrusion and garnering him much respect from the conservative community for his stance on free market economics, individual liberties and firm support on the importance of second amendment rights.

The female corpse forever resting on the desk like a bored student during a calculus lecture, had her body in a position in a similar sprawled out position just while sitting down. Like the senator she too wore conservative clothing, a striped blazer and tie with a matching skirt, along with dark nylons and casual black heels. Her skin was slightly tanned, with glasses, her dark hair in a scuffed up bun. She also had many stab wounds with the alleged murder weapon and a Sicilian necktie as well. She was former superior judge Elizabeth Valencia-Carnegie (D-NY). A charismatic judge who was a cornerstone to woman's rights, marriage equality, and progressive economic reform known for her kind attitude and firm but fair actions in the courtroom.

Both were well known politicians not involved with any government and political scandals and highly received by the colleagues of their respective political parties. In fact, the only two things the two had in common was their age: forty-two, and their absolute disdain for one another.

However it wouldn't take an expert investigator to determine that their untimely demise did not come at the hands of either politician trying to finally out-due the other, twas not mutually assured destruction. It was murder.

Murder that circumstantially at least looked like the handiwork of a mad-woman, the work of Harley Quinn, or so it were assumed. The crazy clown girl still lay slumbering on the cold and dusty floor. Finally however a loud clap of thunder was enough to wake the blonde of her rest, and sent her shooting up, sitting on the floor.

"Yah!" she gasped, coming out of a nightmare. "Oh, just a dream...a horrible, horrible dream." she assured herself.

Harley wiped some residual sweat and blood from her forehead, not knowing at the time that the latter was smeared about her body. She sighed, and shook her head, still not entirely aware of where she was, or worried about where she was.

"Get it together Harl, it's okay, it was only a bad dre-huh?" she retorted.

She finally looked about the kitchen and the penthouse, not noticing the dead bodies that lay or sat just inches from where she was.

"W-where am I?" she asked "Um...hello?" she called just as another thunder clap boomed "Hello." she stood up, knife still unknowingly in her left hand. "Red...M-M-Mistah J?" she called "...Barbara." she then whispered. "Okay, ha-ha, good joke, ya got me." the blonde called "Seriously...guys? I-I-If this isa joke, it really isn't fun-what!"

Harley then noticed the bloody butchers knife in her hand. She studied it for a few moments. The blade was nearly a foot long, and almost three inches in length at its longest part, arching less as the blade rose. Th handle was a polymer silicone grip, and the silver blade was turned to a reddish-brown color due to the blood stains that were drying.

"Oh no." Harley gasped "No-no...no..n-n-no-no way, there's no way I-" Harley gasped.

She finally looked down, bumping her left foot into the late senator Dorian. Her eyes went wide and she dropped the knife, which hit the floor with a loud clang, nearly hitting the corpse. She backed into the table.

"No-NO! NO I-I-I...I couldn't have! No!" she shrieked "No-no-this can't be happening-no!"

She then fell into the late judge's lap. She jumped and turned to her, realizing she was deceased as well. Harley jumped and fell onto the dusty and dilapidated breakfast nook.

"Ahh! No! No, there's no way I did this—NO!" she yelled studying both corpses for a moment.

Frantic, Harley began to bite her fingernails. Tears formed on her face as the subterfuge of the bodies began to fill the room, causing Harley to become nauseous, on top of the paranoia she already felt. Rigor mortis was already setting in on the corpses.

"There's no way...n-n-n-no way I...but what if I...no." Harley broke down, falling to the floor. "No, it can't be true...it can't be."

She sobbed into her bloody hands for a few moments. Harley was a lot of things, and true; she had carried out a lot f the Joker's more unsavory deeds, but in light of all that she has never been guilty of murder. This was all to new to her...and it wasn't even her who committed said double homicide.

Convinced. She dried her tears and got to her feet, surveying the penthouse.

Despite the deplorable and unlivable conditions of the still doomed hotel, some lights were not shut off, though mist were. There was one lamp lit, as were two dimly lit ceiling lights near the door, otherwise it was pitch black.

What Harley did notice on the lighted side table in the living room was a phone. A hopelessly obsolete rotary phone from the late 1940's or so. With more luck Harley noticed that the old phone was still hooked up to a jack in the wall. She scurried over to the phone and picked the headset from the receiver. Her eyes lit up and a slight smile crept on her face upon hearing the dial tone.

"Yes." she choked up a little. "Okay, there's only one person who can help me at a time like this...and without her I don't know what to do." she said dialing the numbers.

. . .

_Barbara's POV_

It was Saturday night. I usually finished my patrols early, and especially early at every Saturday night since a few months ago. Cause in those three months, what I thought was the biggest mistake of my hero career turned out to be one where I not only gained...somewhat of an ally, but a friend.

Then I inadvertently exposed myself to Harley Quinn, and the two of us had—for lack of a long story short—decided that one day each week we would find a place to just talk, and get all the aggression of being a hero and villain lackey off our chests...Which coincidentally made our human identities that much weaker.

We decided on this little hole-in-the-wall diner not too far from the police station. It was once two passenger rail cars, which were welded together to create the diner. We sat at the same booth each Saturday, and normally ordered the same thing. Given the low profile aspect of the diner and low amount of people coming and going, it was an ideal place for us to meet.

...Except on this day, Harley was late. She's been late before, but over an hour and half is ridiculous, even for her. I was getting worried. I thought something horrible had happened...boy was I right. But seriously though I did enjoy spending time with her...I guess we really do care for each other.

Well just as I was about to call her, my cell phone buzzed, and as it turned out, it wasn't Harley, or so I thought, it was from an unknown number—a local number, but unknown all the same. I answered, and put my serious face on.

"Hello?"

"_Are you alone?"_ I heard Harley's frantic voice.

"Harley? Y-yeah. Yeah I'm at the diner, I've been waiting for you for-" she cut me off then.

"_Wait-wait? The diner? You mean it's Saturday night? _She asked apparently not sure of the date, that's when I got worried.

"Uh, yeah." I responded "Yeah its Saturday night."

"_You're sure?" _she asked sternly

"One hundred percent Harl? What's going on?" I asked seriously

"_Oh Barbara I may have done it this time—but I'm certain I didn't! I swear!"_

"Harley-Harley calm down...calm down." I stood and walked in the back towards the rest rooms so the few staff and patrons wouldn't get suspicious.

"_I can't explain, I don't even know myself...Hell the last I remember was what I was doing—apparently yesterday evening. I need your help, I could be in deep this time."_

"Alright...alright, relax." I urged her "Just relax, now where are you? I checked the number, you're still in town."

"_Yeah, um...I'm in an apartment or a penthouse of some kind, dark building."_

"You'll have to be a bit more specific." I insisted

"_I know-I know, I'm at a window now...um...okay there's an old theater across the street..wherever I am I'm high up, twenty stories easy."_

Now we were getting somewhere "What does it say on the theater?"

"_Um...Bijou."_

"Bijou? That's the old theater across from the "The Hotel Sanctuary." I'm sure of it."

"_I guess you're right...But I'm high up."_

"Alright Harl, I'm on my way, now listen to me cause what I am about to say is very-very-VERY important. Stay put. Don't move from where you are and whatever you do-"

"_Don't touch anything." _she sighed knowing exactly what I was gonna say.

"Good girl, I'm coming for you Harl, just stay there." I hung up.

I sighed. Whatever she did it was obviously urgent, of course part of me thought that this were some elaborate prank, I wouldn't put it past Harley to do a thing like that. What I needed were more answers, and obviously the sooner I got to her the better.

"Hero time." I whispered before taking my leave of the near empty diner.

I ran to my car trying to beat the rain, trying not to think how long tonight was actually going to be...

**There's a good cliffhanger. So I know its too soon to tell but who do you think is the killer? Is Harley telling the whole truth? Is this some elaborate prank? Does the clown princess of crime really do have something hidden up her sleeve? We shall see...**


End file.
